Cancer
by Dibsthe1
Summary: Diagnosed with cancer, Dib weighs his options. Yes. I was in just THAT black a mood.


_(A/N) I got the idea for this one from the most recent review I posted here. As always, I don't own Invader Zim. _

**Cancer**

Dib sank back, absorbing the shock. He'd begun to suspect a long time ago that something was wrong, even guessed that extreme measures might be called for, but he had never really let himself believe it would come to this.

"No." He shook his head. "Not that."

The doctor, a middle-aged man with grey just starting at the edges of a full head of reddish brown hair, calmly placed the report back down on his desk and looked Dib full in the eyes. "I'm afraid it is, son," he repeated. "And yes, unfortunately, it is terminal."

"It's something else. It gotta be. I want a second opinion."

The doctor's eyes held Dib's, firmly but kindly. "We sent your scans to the top three oncology clinics on the planet. They all agreed with my diagnosis... I'm sorry to say." The doctor sighed, then clasped his hands. "I know it's never easy to hear this when you're a young adult and life is finally opening up for you... "

_"I know." You don't know squat. Did this ever happen to YOU?_ Dib thought bitterly, as the doctor rambled on just to sound like he knew everything. _You got a big expensive desk and a medical degree and think it gives you power over life and death. Sure, YOU won't die when you just reach your 20s... so you sit up there like a hanging judge handing down the worst deaths you can think of. '"The guy who has the nerve to enjoy french fries - HA! Heart attack! And the guy who dares to have a sex life - BEEP! AIDS! And as for the guy who went through utter hell every day of his life until he finally moved out - oh, I've got a special little irony all waiting just FOR him - " _

"... and by now, I mean as in right now. Today."

"Why?" Dib suddenly wanted to know. "What happened? What did I do wrong? Just tell me that much."

"It's no one's fault," the doctor assured him, holding up a hand, "least of all yours. I have even seen this happen to children. If you want to know 'why,' you'd do as well to ask the hospital chaplain as to ask me. These things just happen."

"No they don't! Why me? Why. Me. "

"Many reasons. Mutation, radiation. Exposure to the chemicals in your father's lab could be a contributing factor. And of course we can't overlook genetics... "

"If you know all that you know how to stop it too."

"Sometimes, yes, they do respond to professional treatment. However, I'm sad to say that by this time, yours is completely beyond control."

Dib squared his shoulders. "I'll live with it. I've lived with it this long."

"'Live with it'? Not for much longer, you won't. It must be removed, and removed as soon as possible."

"So? Remove it. Operate already!"

The doctor sighed as if bracing himself. "It has now gone so far that invasive procedures have become necessary."

"Invasive? That's what an operation IS! You're the doctor; fix it!"

"As I mentioned, there is no cure."

"No cure? One second you say you can do something and in the next you can't. Which is it?"

"When something is doing us, and will continue to do us, this much harm, we have to get rid of it, even if it's part of us. Perhaps, _especially_ if it's part of us."

Dib's eyes hardened as they sought the doctor's. "What are you saying?" he said, forcing his breath to remain steady. "There is a cure, or there isn't a cure."

The doctor took a deep breath. "Well there is one, but I can tell you, it will not be easy."

"And that is?"

The doctor folded his hands. "Amputation."

"Remove it? Altogether?" Dib's hands reached to cover his affected limb. "No!"

"Dib. Listen to me, please. You're doing it a lot more good than it is doing you. Even now, it's siphoning off more than its fair share of nutrition. Do you know, I even noticed you limping as you came into my office? You're trusting something that is not worthy of that trust! If we don't do something, soon, it will spread. At least that hasn't happened yet. This can KILL YOU. Do you understand? And that's not all. You will inevitably experience horrible, excruciating pain, that is, I mean, if it hasn't started already."

Dib frowned. Pain. Oh, he was used to pain. In fact, so long had he been living with pain, he now realized, he had forgotten how it felt _not_ to be in pain.

"I know you're in shock right now, but at least we still have time to act. Dib?"

Dib had looked away and was rubbing his knee, sick with uneasiness. Even with this much at stake, could he permanently remove something that he had had all his life? His world would completely change; could he adjust?

At that moment Dib's hand found the spot where she had viciously kicked him just that morning, now shooting another sharp bolt of pain through his leg. This latest incident was retribution for accidentally brushing his finger against her side, and though it was hardly the first time she had lashed out at him like a violent mental case over nothing, this time it came as the final straw. He had lived like this long enough.

Dib reached into his pocket for his cell phone to call his lawyer and the relief was immediate. He had longed to do this for years, but being helpless to do so, had forced himself to become resigned to it. Now that he had actually made the decision, he wondered why he had waited so long after reaching legal age.

At last, Dib was starting proceedings to get a restraining order and to legally disown Gaz.

_(A/N) Dib does NOT have cancer. (I'm sure this will gratify a few people and disappoint the rest.) _

_I was deliberately hiding the real story. This discussion was merely a metaphor for Dib's inner debate before cutting quite a different malignancy out of his life for good. _

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End file.
